Goodbye
by invisible0one
Summary: "'He's really gone.' I'd said it to myself a million times, but instead of getting easier to believe, it only got harder." Danny has finally cracked under the pressure, and now Sam has only herself and her writing to rant to about everything that did, and should have, happened.


_**Goodbye**_

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"He's really gone." I'd said it to myself a million times, but instead of getting easier to believe, it only got harder. He couldn't be gone, he just couldn't. He knew the shit was about to hit the fan several times over in his life a good month before it happened, but he still never said good bye. We'd practically grown up together, but he didn't bother saying goodbye before he left me.

_"I'll be back. It may be a few years, but I will come back." _He said that right after he let it slip that he was leaving. It was by no means of his own choosing, but he still had to leave.

Jazz said he finally cracked under all the pressure he was under; she says that's what got him sent off to the mental hospital all those months ago. He was gone for five months and all I got was two texts in that first month. I didn't hear from him again until May, when he finally returned to me for a month.

One month. One fucking month was all I got with him. During that month, for the first time, I felt like we were actually starting to head in the direction of a real relationship. He was still clueless about how I felt about him, hell I was still clueless about the full extent of my feelings, but he started getting a little more physical with me. Twice, we just sat on my front lawn in silence, him sitting behind me just brushing out my hair. Then he'd finish and get bored, all bets were off from there.

He tried to tickle me once when he got bored. Needless to say, that didn't end well. In the five months he was gone, he seemed to temporarily forget that I fight back. Then again, he's the one that made the mistake of giving back my hairbrush before making his attack.

Another time, it may have actually been the same day (I can't seem to remember), he picked me up and started to run down the street with me over his shoulder. I had to make him put me down, I didn't need to let him give my mother another reason to hate him. His mental instability was already lowering her opinion of him, not that it really had far to go.

I still remember the hug he gave me before he left that day. It was so simple, but it was the last one I ever got from him. The memory of his arms wrapped around me is priceless.

Then I remember the second time we sat on my front lawn. The time where he told me he was going to have to leave. I don't think he meant to tell me, he quickly tried to cover his hide right afterwards.

I remember the exact words he'd said right as he let it slip he was going to leave me again.

_"I'd date you when I turn sixteen, if I didn't have to move."_ It was a slip of the tongue, it was written all over his face. He told me he'd be back eventually, but I don't know if he really meant it, or if he was trying to keep me from getting too upset over the prospect of it. I'm assuming he was leaving because his parents thought the new environment might help him out.

Now, he was gone. My best friend, was really and truly gone. He didn't say goodbye, he just left. One day, there was no more Danny Phantom flying in the sky, he was just gone.

I think the worst part is the fact that I still see the rest of his family from time to time, just never him. I once asked his sister if there was any way I could get in contact with him.

_**No there really isnt. sorry.**_ That was the text I'd gotten back from her. I nearly broke down after seeing that. The only reason I didn't was the fact that there were people over I was expected to entertain, or at least pretend to care about. I refused to let anyone see me break down.

God help me if Jazz lied, thinking it would make things easier on me.

Then there are the people at school, always asking me what's happened to him. It's as if they think I know about every little thing that's ever happened to him. My response is always "I wish I knew," or "I don't know." Every time someone asks that question, it gets harder and harder to keep myself together. Last time, my defenses very nearly dropped. They probably will if I have to answer that question again.

I wonder if anyone realizes just how hard this is for me. I doubt even Tucker sees it. Then again, part of that may be because I haven't told anyone what I meant to tell him before he left; I've never told anyone that I love him.

That's right, I'll admit it now: I love Danny Fenton, and I have for quite a while, but I didn't really realize it. I mean, I realized it when he was with Valerie, but it didn't really hit home until after he came back in May. I wanted to tell him before he left, but he never said goodbye.

Stupid boy. How the hell do you leave your best friend of eight fucking years without saying goodbye?

Clueless idiot.

And then, there's the here and now. With me, Sam Manson, sitting here writing all this out because there is no one to listen to my rants, no one to help me through this. Writing all this out because it's better than laying in my bed tonight, crying and wishing with all my heart he were here, if only long enough for me to tell him how I really feel.

Some times I wonder if he'll ever find this; a part of me hopes he does. Then he'd at least know the truth about my feelings, he'd know the one secret I was keeping from him. Then, the rational part of me kicks in, telling me he'd never come anywhere near this, much less actually see it.

Maybe it's crazy, and sometimes I feel like I really am losing my mind, but I'll sit here and wait for him. Even if its years before I see him again, I'll sit here and wait. He said he'd be back, and I'll be damned if I don't hold him to that. Hell, I'll sit through hours of Jazz's pyscho-babbling if I can get her to help bring him back to me.

So that's all this really is, I guess. Just a rant about how he never said goodbye. A rant about how the shit hit the fan for both of us when he finally cracked under everything and didn't come to me for help when even he should have been able to tell he needed it. A rant about how he'll never know the truth, and how I'll sit here waiting for him to come back.

Why didn't he ever say goodbye?

Clueless idiot.

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_The sad bit? If you change the names, almost all of that is true in my own life. Hell, there's only two or three paragraphs that have anything truely fabricated within them._

_Ranting through pointless one-shots, gotta love it. :P_

_Comments and feedback are as welcome as always. :D_

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_Invisible One_


End file.
